Man in the Mirror
by PickaPicChallenge
Summary: Isabella Black is stuck in a marriage she doesn't want. She's new to an old, ancient house in the middle of nowhere. What happens when Isabella comes across a mirror that leads her to a man. A story of hopeless lives and meaningless words.


**Pick a Pic Challenge**

**Title :** Man in the mirror

**banner:** #218

**pairing:** Edward & Bella

**Genre:** angst/romance/friendship

**Rating/disclaimer:** Rated -M. mention of rape.

**summary:** Isabella Black is stuck in a marriage she doesn't want. She's new to an old, ancient house in the middle of nowhere. What happens when Isabella comes across a mirror that leads her to a man. A story of hopeless lives and meaningless words.

**************To see all entries for this contest, please visit (****pickapic).(twificpics).com**

* * *

**Man in the Mirror**

She wondered if she could kill. Feel the sick satisfaction of it. Then decided against it. She couldn't kill someone. She couldn't even hurt a fucking spider.

Although, she thought as she marinated the chicken, she could commit suicide. She knew nobody would care.

She snorted; she could even imagine the headlines:

ISABELLA BLACK COMMITS

SUICIDE OVER FORCED ABORTION

She took a deep breath, her hand grazing her empty, flat stomach. She had been so excited for her baby. She had imagined a little girl with raven hair and big brown eyes. Or perhaps a baby boy, a mama's boy, with brown hair, tan skin, and big dreams. But before she could imagine more than that, Jacob Black, her husband, had killed their child.

A child for Jacob Black would mean responsibility. A wife and a child were a fucking big fat responsibility for Mr. Black.

He did not care that their marriage was falling apart. He did not care that there had been no love or affection in their marriage from the very first day.

Their marriage was a business deal. Jacob Black had gotten Charlie Swan's multinational company, and Charlie Swan had gotten rid of his daughter, able to enjoy the rest of his life with his latest and the newest wife, Sue.

She felt pity for herself. She had thought that maybe if her father did not love her or care for her, then maybe someday somebody would.

And that somebody, for seventeen year old Isabella Swan, had been Jacob Black. He had been twenty-five when she first met him, an intelligent new face for her father's company. He was older then her, more mature than the bratty little teenage boys around her. She had been entranced.

He spoke proper and his black eyes had spoken volumes to her. She had been in love with him, before she even realized what was happening. And Jacob had seen it, seen the sweet first love in his boss's daughter's eyes, and found a short cut to success.

He would talk to her for hours. He would kiss her and embrace her with what she had thought were actions of love. And by the time she had turned eighteen, he had her virginity. At least, willingly so.

Charlie had gotten the whim of his daughter's affair with Jacob. He considered Jacob to be the kind of son he wanted, the kind of son he would like to leave his property or shares with. The added bonus had been that he would also get rid of Isabella.

Things had been sorted out and within a year, Isabella Swan and Jacob Black were married, and Jacob was the CEO of the biggest company of the world.

She had been ecstatic, as she was marrying the man of her dreams. The ceremony had been beautiful, but most importantly, he had been beautiful.

But then things had turned. After the guests had left the wedding reception, her father disowned her. He had left without another word, with Sue quickly tagging behind him, a smirk plastered on her face.

The next person who ripped out her heart had been her husband. On the second night of their honeymoon, she had walked in on him fucking the housekeeper.

He had been drunk and insulting. He had told her how she was a business deal and that he could never love her.

She was trapped in a marriage she had looked forward to. Reality and bad luck had pushed her so hard she fell, but never rose.

Six years later, she had come to accept that fact. She was still married to Jacob. She had nowhere else to go. And he wouldn't let her. She was his free maid and a fuck toy whenever he pleased.

Over the years, she had fought him, but that would either result with him abusing her or locking her somewhere until she would apologize.

So, she had stopped fighting. Stopped living. Until the day she had gotten pregnant. She had wanted that baby. He had wanted the baby dead. Her baby was killed the day after. She had threatened to expose him, to tell the public about his abusive nature. He had looked at her with grim.

Then, he had moved them to Washington, a small town named Forks near Seattle, the middle of nowhere.

She still hadn't unpacked all of their things, yet. The house was huge, beautiful, and old. Very old. The first thing she did had been to unpack the kitchen and their bedroom because Jacob needed bed and food and clothes. Rest all, including her, was just for show.

Jacob Black was a slick, disgusting little motherfucker.

She cooked the rest of her lunch and ate in silence. Jacob was out in Seattle in the company headquarters. Therefore, she knew she would be staying alone for the rest of the day and maybe the night, too.

She washed the dishes and then started unpacking.

She decided to dump the rest of the unwanted boxes in the store that was on the third floor of the house, a part which she hadn't yet seen.

She went to the third floor and dumped the remaining five boxes.

The room was huge and dark. Very dusty, too. But what surprised her was that there were still some old boxes and trunks kept. Maybe, she mused, the previous owners hadn't taken all of their stuff, yet.

Sighing tiredly, she kept her things in one corner and the other trunks and boxes in another.

Finally exhausted, she sat near the window with a bottle of beer in her hands, thinking about everything and absolutely nothing.

The sun gleamed through the windows and came scattering back. Scattering back? She looked towards the room, her eyes gazing at the mirror she had never seen.

The mirror was elliptical and was surrounded by a silver plate with carved flowers. It looked ancient. She walked towards it. For a mirror that was so old and kept in such a dusty room, the mirror looked crystal clear.

Suddenly, she saw a reflection. Not hers, but of a man. He looked tall and muscular. He had a wild bronze mess of hair and gold eyes. Honest eyes. He had a sharp jaw and a very handsome face. He was pale as a ghost. She wondered briefly if he was one.

She knew the image wasn't a visage or a photo; the man was real. She knew he hadn't been there when she first looked at the mirror. He was looking at her. She looked back.

A ghost of a smile played on his mouth. She nearly died.

He whispered, "Hello, Bella."

Bella? Nobody had ever called her that before. She had always been Isabella. But she liked it. Bella. Beautiful. Was she even that?

Voluntarily, her voice spoke, "Hello."

They stared at each other. She could see him in the mirror but couldn't see her reflection. She was glad. She didn't want condense his beauty.

He looked at her, his eyes gleaming with wonder and adoration. They confused her, his eyes.

A noise downstairs startled her. She looked down on her wrist watch. Jacob was early. That was not good.

She looked at him again. He looked sad.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You came back," he stated.

"I did?" she asked.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I don't understand," he said.

She glanced from her book to him. "What?"

"The reason. Why do you come back?" he asked. His eyes were confused. She found him cute. That was odd.

"I guess I enjoy your company."

"Or maybe you don't have anyone else," he countered.

She grinned, but her eyes were sad. "Yeah, that too."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You know, it is very odd," she mused.

"Us meeting? That, Bella, is beyond odd," he replied.

"Not us meeting!" she disagreed. Though she did consider it odd that she would sit in front of a mirror doing anything and everything. And he would look at her and sometimes talk to her. "Just the fact that I don't even know your name."

He raised his eyebrows in question; had he not told her his name? Then he realized he hadn't.

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen is my full name," he said.

"It is a long name," she remarked.

He laughed.

And after a very long time, she laughed, too.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Was this your home? Did you live here?" she inquired.

He nodded. "A very long time ago, yes, it was."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He wanted to know her. "What is your favourite color?"

She looked at him with a very funny expression. "Why do you ask me that?"

"Isn't that what you do when you want to know someone?"

She did not reply soon. After a few minutes, in quiet whisper, she said, "Gold."

He smiled, pleased.

By the end of the day they knew each others every like and dislike.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I find him to be very boring," she said as a matter of fact.

He stared at her in bewilderment. "How can you find Charles Dickens boring?"

"I just do!" she said.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sometimes, she was glad that Jacob hardly spent time in their house. She could sit with Edward as long as she wanted. She looked forward to talk to him.

Though with each passing day her curiosity increased. How could a man appear in a mirror? Why were his eyes gold? Why did he talk as if he were of old times?

And why for god sakes did he stare at her like that?

"You look deep in thought," he said. He looked solemn.

"Edward?" she asked.

"Yes, Bella?"

"Are you human?" she questioned. A flick of emotions passed his face.

He debated on his answer, then decided on the truth. "No." He looked at her then, almost fearful. Would she stop seeing him now?

"Are you scared?" he inquired. His voice was timid.

"No."

He looked at her. All sad and gold eyes. "You should be."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Twenty six."

"In human years?"

"Yes. Technically, though, I am one hundred seven."

"You're really old. But lucky for you, you look young."

"That is the gift of immortality." He chuckled.

She looked at him. Everyday he grew more and more beautiful to her. And, God, he was sweet. Or maybe that was because….

Did he stay in that mirror always?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Edward, are you trapped in this mirror?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Then where do you live? Can you come out, like, now?"

"I live very far from here. And no, I cannot come out now. Bella, I am not a magician."

"Then, what are you?"

He looked at her. She looked back. Brown to gold, they looked at each other.

"Vampire."

She stared at him. She wondered if she believed him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Apparently she did believe him. And curiosity had nearly killed her last night.

She was not afraid of him. How could she be? In the past four months, he had been nothing but nice to her. He had been her friend. She had never had a friend. But now, even though she knew that he was a vampire (she had done her research), she just couldn't stop talking to him.

Though she supposed she was being unfair to him, with each passing day she grew fond of him more and more. So, what, did she like him now?

No. She was a married woman. She couldn't think like that. Even though her husband did not give a fuck about her. But still. And it wasn't as if Edward would suddenly fall in love with her! No, why would he fall in love with her? He was so above her. She was sure he talked to her because he felt pity. Yes, pity was the only emotion he could feel for her.

She closed her eyes and waited for tomorrow. Today was one of those days. The type of days when Jacob decided to stay at home. He would sit on the couch in front of the TV with his iPad, a beer, and chicken wings in front of him and behave like the lazy ass he was.

While she would sit in her room and read. She couldn't go to the store room. What if Jacob grew suspicious? How would he react to his wife cheating on him? She stopped in mid thought. Was she cheating on him with Edward?

No, how could she? She didn't spend her time with Edward kissing or singing unchained melody. Though she would like to, she admitted guiltily.

But she liked to think about herself with Edward. Because regardless of what he was, Isabella knew she was in love with him. However abrupt and stupid it may be.

She also knew that if Jacob came to know about this, she would be in great trouble.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Why do you come here?" she asked him, the next morning.

"I was wondering why you hadn't asked me, yet," he replied.

"That doesn't answer my question."

He looked at the fury in her eyes. He liked that she was feisty. "I come here because I am supposed to."

"Why?"

He hesitated. "Because you are supposed to be my mate."

Mate? She doubted that. She was married after all. "I am married, you know."

"Of course I know that. But if you hadn't been my mate I wouldn't be seeing you in this mirror now."

"We see each other because we are mates?"

"One of my… friends, they have a power, they foresee a person's mate in any mirror they want. It is kind of… _witchy_, but it is true. And, well, for me they see you."

"Oh." She thought about that. It made her happy and sad. Happy because what she felt for him was real and sad because they wouldn't ever be together. "But I am married. How will we work? And you are in a _mirror!"_

He asked her slowly, "Are you saying that you want this—us—to work?"

"I guess I am."

A beam came on his face. He looked glad. She was glad that it was because of her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" This wasn't Edward. She looked behind her to see Jacob. He had found her talking to a mirror. Talking to Edward. She was caught.

Jacob didn't exactly understand what was happening, but he had heard her. That bitch thought she could cheat on him. Cheat on Jacob black. At first, he thought maybe she was talking to herself, but a male voice? That had really fucked him up.

The mirror fell into pieces as Jacob hurled it across the room. He didn't know anything about that mirror, but he knew enough that he would not let his wife talk to that ass again. Isabella screamed when Jacob yanked at her hair roughly and carried her downstairs to his room.

That night Isabella's screams filled the house as Jacob beat and raped her again and again. He showed her who she belonged to and then locked her in a dark room, knowing how afraid she was of the dark.

She sat their crying her eyes out. She cried for her lost mother and for Edward who was now lost to her. But most importantly she cried for herself. She despised the dark. Because it was in dark when her father raped or beat her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Then next morning did not bring a new day with joy and laughter. It bought sadness and weakness. Jacob had locked her in the room and locked the house, as well. The store now had a permanent lock, too

Though the locks did not bother Edward at all. No locks or bounds could or would keep him from Bella. He waited for Jacob to leave, even though all he wanted to do was to kill him. But Alice had warned him, Bella was in such a weak and fragile state that seeing Edward like that wouldn't do her any good. Therefore he waited. Because patience is virtue. He snorted darkly. Like fuck it was.

After he was sure Jacob had left, he walked towards the door, knowing it was locked. With a swift kick the door unhinged and then broke.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He was here. She couldn't believe it. Edward was here, and not in a mirror. He was _really_ here.

His gold eyes were the last thing she saw before she finally gave in and slithered into darkness.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She was in a room full of people. She was sure, because there were voices. Male and female. She didn't know why, but she felt safe and warm, even though the body wrapped around her was frozen.

She shifted a little. The voices stopped. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes, almost expecting to be back with Jacob. But she was wrong. She was really glad she was wrong.

Upon opening her eyes, she saw golden eyes. Golden eyes that belonged to Edward. Within a second, her arms were around him. She didn't realize she was crying. Honestly she didn't even care. She was just glad that she was with him. He wrapped his arms around her petite frame, thinking the same thoughts.

He had found her, found the only person he wanted to spend his entire being with.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much."

Tears flowed freely from her eyes. "I love you, too, Edward. Forever"

"Forever," he promised.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She was one of them, a member of the Cullen clan. A vampire. A vegetarian vampire.

She had never fit with anyone in her human life, but she mixed with them easily, as if she belonged there. She was born to be a vampire, she decided.

And she loved each one of them. Carlisle and Esme. Emmett and Rosalie. Alice and Jasper. But most importantly, she loved Edward; she was his mate, after all.

She was Edward Cullen's wife, Bella Cullen. She loved that name. She loved herself and that was important. Rosalie had taught her that because she understood her pain. They had bonded real quickly just like she and Alice had.

Slowly and steadily she had accepted and bonded with the rest of the Cullens, too. She considered Esme and Carlisle her parents and Jasper and Emmett her brothers.

She was finally happy. And to say, it all happened because of a man in the mirror.


End file.
